


fall with you

by maharlika



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Blind Date, Domestic Fluff, Humor, Jealousy, M/M, Requited Love, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:14:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29506749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maharlika/pseuds/maharlika
Summary: Thor's friend sets him up on a blind date. Loki isn't jealous at all! Not at all.(He'll just go on his own blind date, then, hah! That'll show Thor.)A fun little human brothers AU.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Loki, Loki/Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 182





	fall with you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyVader](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyVader/gifts).



> written for kim for her birthday, which was about a month ago. just got around to posting it ❤️
> 
> also counts as a belated valentine's day fic i guess :)

**1.**

It all starts on a Sunday afternoon, a month after Loki has moved in with Thor. 

Autumn's been late in coming, but finally December has brought its customary chill with it, and Loki’s pleased to announce (only to himself and his relentless boners) that his brother is finally wearing shirts around the apartment.

“We should really get out more,” Thor says, plopping down on the couch with Loki. He’s tapping rapidly at his phone as he does so, and Loki hopes he’s ordering the pizza he promised. “You’ve been here for ages and all you’ve seen is the apartment and your office.”

Loki hums, non-committal. It’s not that the city isn’t nice or anything, it’s just that he’s very aware of _why_ he moved here. And it wasn’t to sight-see. Besides, all the sights he wants to see are right here next to him. 

_Fucking tone it down_ , _Odinson_ , he snaps at himself. A month with Thor and he’s already fraying. This was a bad idea, but he can’t regret it: no one loves self-flagellation more than Loki. 

“Are you ordering pizza?” Loki asks instead. “Because I want olives and mushrooms.”

“I’ll make you a pizza instead,” Thor says, still staring at his phone. “We got flour in the last grocery run, remember?”

“Who _makes_ pizza,” Loki mutters, though he’s feeling very warm from just the idea. “You’re so weird.” 

“Not all of us live on fast food and ramen,” Thor says, grinning as he stares at his phone.

It’s none of Loki’s business. It’s _really_ none of Loki’s business.

“Who’re you texting?” Loki asks.

“Just Steve,” Thor says. “He’s the new guy in the lab, just got put into the same rotation.” 

He taps on his phone a few times, then turns it around to show Loki a picture.

“Mm, blue-eyed, blond, and ripped,” Loki says, waggling his eyebrows. “Just my type.” Never mind that he’s basically describing Thor as well.

“Yeah,” Thor says, then he laughs to himself, shaking his head. “He’s trying to set me up with someone.”

Loki’s glad he’s curled up on the other end of the couch, just his toes touching Thor’s bare thigh. Otherwise, Thor would have felt his entire body go rigid.

“Oh,” Loki says. 

“Blind date,” Thor says, shrugging. “Might as well try, I guess?”

“Could be a serial killer,” Loki says. “Or worse.”

“Worse than a serial killer?” Thor asks. He’s looked up from his phone, finally. A hand curls on top of Loki’s ankle, just resting there. 

“They could like pineapple on pizza,” Loki says. 

It’s a weak joke and Loki knows it, but Thor throws back his head and laughs all the same.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is why moving in with the brother _who you’re in love with_ is a horrible, terrible, no good idea. 

“No pineapples on your pizza,” Thor promises. “You just sit back there and let me take care of you.”

“When’s the date?” Loki asks, because he hates himself.

Thor blinks, looks down at his phone again. “Next Sunday. If the other guy is game.”

“I’m sure he will be,” Loki says, deflating as he does. “You’re great.”

“It’s just a date,” Thor says. He stands up and stretches, and Loki doesn’t even feel like ogling him, which is a bad sign.

“Yeah,” Loki says. “Just a date.”

**2.**

“ _Hey_ ,” Bucky texts him two days later. “ _Wanna go on a blind date?_ ”

Loki doesn’t know how to feel about Bucky. On one hand, he’s the only person at Loki’s office who hasn’t been turned off by Loki’s utter reluctance to make friends with anyone. On the other hand, that’s probably because Bucky also has no other friends. Loki’s heard him mention a boyfriend once or twice, though.

“ _What the fuck_ ,” Loki texts back. “ _Do I seem like the sort of person who’d go on a blind date?_ ”

Bucky doesn’t reply instantly, so Loki rolls his eyes and exits out of the messaging app. 

Loki. On a blind date. The very idea is preposterous. If he wanted to hook up with someone he wouldn’t need to wine and dine them; a date would be a waste of his time and theirs. 

“ _Do you seem like the sort of person who yearns for romantic connection despite your prickly exterior?_ ” Bucky texts later, when Loki’s already forgotten about the proposition. “ _Yeah, dude._ ”

“Fuck you,” Loki says out loud, reading the text on the couch again, wincing as Thor runs his knuckles over a particularly sore spot under Loki’s foot. 

“What?” Thor says.

“Nothing,” Loki says quickly. “Just Bucky being an idiot.”

“I think he’s good for you,” Thor says, pressing his thumbs into Loki’s ankle in a way that makes him have to swallow down a moan. “It’s good to have friends in a new city.”

“I have you,” Loki mutters, staring at his phone.

“I know,” Thor says, eyes crinkling as he smiles. He gives Loki’s foot another squeeze, still looking at him fondly.

Instead of making him feel warm, the way Thor’s crinkly-eyed smile usually does, it only sours his stomach. Especially when Loki knows that Thor’s going to go on a _date_ with someone next week. Sure, Loki has Thor now, but when he finds a boyfriend—when Thor finds a boyfriend—

The thought is too awful to finish. 

“Do you want some wine?” Loki asks, tugging his feet back from Thor’s hands. “I want a sangria.”

“It’s 11 PM,” Thor says slowly. “And you have work tomorrow morning. I have to be at the greenhouse at 7.”

“So do you want some or not?” Loki asks.

“Lo,” Thor says, in the voice he uses when Loki is about to make a bad decision. 

“We can split,” Loki says. “I’ll drink less that way.”

Thor sighs. “Okay, but you’re eating all the fruit in your drink. All of it.”

**3.**

“ _Fiine, whtevr,_ ” Loki texts Bucky before he passes out at 2 AM, after spending ten minutes trying to set his alarm. “ _BUT u better set me up w someone good. GOOD good_.”

**4.**

Thor’s gone by the time Loki gets out of bed, but he’s left a croissant, still in its brown paper bag, on the counter for Loki. 

“Rise and shine, Lo! :)” says the note on the bag. 

Loki checks his phone as he eats it, brushing crumbs off his shirt and wondering when Thor even had time to buy him fresh bread this morning. His brother is, as usual, completely ridiculous.

A text from Bucky comes in, reminding Loki that he did, in fact, agree to be set up on a blind date with someone. 

“ _Trust me,_ ” Bucky’s reply says, “ _you’re gonna love this guy_.”

“ _How blind is this date gonna be?”_ Loki texts. “ _Can I at least know his name?_ ”

“ _Nope,_ ” Bucky replies. 

“ _Dick size, at least?_ ” Loki says. 

“ _I know you’re being crass to hide your obvious yearning_ ,” Bucky replies. 

And then, a minute later: _“Okay. According to my sources: probably above average. Probably WAY above average. You’re welcome_.”

“ _When is this hot date happening?_ ”

“ _Sunday,_ ” Bucky says. “ _Don’t you dare flake on me. This guy’s fucking hot, okay_.”

This is a good thing, Loki tells himself. Thor was right—he needs to get out more. It’ll be good to meet someone. 

Maybe, just maybe, it’ll even help Loki get over his helpless infatuation with his own older brother. 

**5.**

“...and most of them are more incompetent than the new teenage intern we just hired, but Bucky wouldn’t let me say so,” Loki says, talking through a mouthful of salad and chicken.

Thor laughs, shaking his head as he bites into his wrap. They’re eating outside despite the chill, al fresco at a cafe where all the staff know Thor by name. 

“Honestly, Bucky sounds like a great influence,” Thor says.

Loki snorts. “It’s Bucky’s fault that I’m going on a—”

He gets cut off when Thor’s phone, which is next to his plate, chimes with a message. Thor takes a quick look over at it, his eyes widening in what Loki can only describe as utter shock.

“Hey,” Loki says, putting his fork down. “You okay?”

Thor nods like one of those plastic bobble-heads they put in taxis. He swipes his drink—just tap water, of course—and starts to chug it.

“Okay,” Loki says, caught between amusement and confusion.

“Sorry,” Thor gasps, after putting his empty glass down. His eyes stray towards his phone again. Loki has to quash down the urge to stand up and take a better look at the screen. “I—wow, uh.”

“What is it?” Loki asks. “Did something happen at the lab?”

“No,” Thor says, clicking his phone off and stuffing it into his pocket. “Just—Steve sent me a picture of my date.”

“Your date,” Loki says, flat. Funny how he hadn’t really felt cold until just that moment.

“Yeah,” Thor says, looking flustered. He won’t meet Loki’s eyes.

Loki doesn’t want to know. He _really_ doesn’t want to know, but he hates himself enough to ask: “Is he hot?”

“Very,” Thor chokes out. He shakes his head. “Sorry—I just, wow. Wow, yeah.”

“Okay,” Loki says icily. “I hope you have a good time. This Sunday, right?”

Thor seems to recover himself enough to take a bite of his meal. He nods.

“Cool,” Loki says. 

“Do you have any plans on Sunday?” Thor asks, before taking another huge bite out of his wrap.

“Nope,” Loki says, thinking of his own blind date and how he can possibly use it to feel better about this whole ordeal. His thoughts are already spinning out of control—what if he brings the guy home while Thor’s out? What if he shows Mr. Probably Above Average Dick off at breakfast, looking completely fucked out? That would show Thor. “No plans at all. I’ll just be home all night, languishing.”

“Mmhm,” Thor nods. He swallows. “I can get you something from the restaurant.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Loki says, biting back as much bitterness as he can. “Just enjoy yourself.”

**6.**

Loki should be fixating on it. His mind should be twisting everything into pretzels right now, seething at Thor for daring to show interest in anyone other than his brother, but also hating himself for even wanting Thor’s attention in the first place. 

But after their breakfast at the cafe, Thor helps Loki put his scarf on, then leads him down the street to the subway with a hand on his back, touchier than even his usual touchy self. He takes him on a tour of the city that he’d promised when Loki had first mentioned looking into jobs here. 

The Modern Art Museum is nice, but mostly for Loki’s benefit. He’s a graphic designer by profession, after all, and he has _opinions_. Voicing them to Thor, who listens and laughs like Loki’s the most interesting person in the world, soothes his brain enough to keep it from mauling itself. 

Thor even buys him a silly green bowl with a raised island in the middle, on which perches a tiny red-roofed house. “Maybe this will convince you to have more than just coffee for breakfast,” Thor says. Loki rolls his eyes, but is already thinking of putting cereal and, _ugh_ , oatmeal on the list for their next grocery run.

Then they go to the harbor to look at seals sunning themselves in the strong noon light. 

Loki has never lived so close to the water before. He and Thor grew up in a land-locked town, in cookie-cutter suburbia. He’s talked a lot about moving here to be closer to the sea, but that was just one more excuse to move in with Thor. 

It’s really nice though. Loki gets the appeal.

The highlight of the day, though, is when Thor takes him to the Botanical Garden. 

Loki knows Thor’s into plants—he’s taking his PhD in Botany, after all. But listening to him talk about them suddenly makes Loki understand why Thor’s classes are always packed with students. He puts on what Loki imagines is his teaching voice, a soothing, patient tone that makes Loki want to lean in and listen. He’s heard Thor talk a lot over the course of their shared life, of course, but not really like this. 

Not like he’s reeling Loki in through sheer charisma and confident knowledge in his subject matter—he talks about more than just the trees they pass by. About what goes on below the surface: roots, fungi, soil bacteria, a whole kingdom flourishing beneath their feet. 

Loki is embarrassed to be reminded, in moments like this, that there is so much more to Thor than just a pretty face and a hot body. (Though there _are_ those too.)

The horrible truth of it is, despite everything, Loki knows he will never love a better person than his brother. Most days, it makes him hate himself.

Today, he can only feel gratitude that he gets to have Thor in any way at all. 

**7.**

The thing is, Loki genuinely does want Thor to be happy. He knows there’s no possible way that _he’ll_ ever be happy, not with this cloud of I-want-to-fuck-my-brother hanging over him, but Thor deserves someone nice. Loki’s happy _for_ him. 

Well, Loki is _trying_ to be happy for him, but when a huge bouquet of flowers shows up at the apartment on Saturday, he feels all the cells in his body simultaneously burst into flames.

Thor thanks the delivery guy and starts bustling around, looking for a big enough vase to hold all the marigolds he’s holding. And it just _had_ to be marigolds, Loki’s favorite. 

“Flowers? For a blind date?” Loki asks, trying to sound nonchalant. “Isn’t that a bit much?”

Thor doesn’t look up from where he’s carefully setting the bouquet into water, preening at the blooms and checking the leaves for spots. 

“I want to make a good impression,” Thor says. “This guy’s supposed to be amazing.”

Loki bites his tongue before he can say anything horrible or scathing. He loves Thor, he reminds himself. 

That doesn’t mean Thor is obligated to love him back.

**8.**

The chocolates are a bit too much. The worst thing is, they’re _also_ Loki’s favorites. 

“ _Tell my date he better bring condoms_ ,” Loki texts Bucky furiously, after Thor buys a bar of Loki’s favorite chocolate during their grocery run. Two bars, actually, because of course he buys a bar for Loki too. The other one, though, is for his _date_.

At the check-out counter, Thor discreetly slides a box of condoms over to the cashier.

Thor’s allowed to buy condoms, Loki tells himself, looking away. Thor’s allowed to buy whatever the fuck he wants. 

“Big plans?” Loki asks, amazed at how steady it comes out.

Thor laughs sheepishly, _blushing_ and rubbing the back of his neck.

“If everything works out,” he says. 

Seething anger or agonizing despair? Loki’s been ping-ponging between both all week.

He can’t wait until Sunday so he can get fucked out of his mind for at least one night.

**9.**

Sunday finally comes. 

Loki makes sure he’s at work while Thor’s at home getting ready for his date—sticking around for that would be too cruel, even for himself.

He’s already wearing a golden snake pin on the lapel of his forest green coat like he told Bucky to tell his date. He’s got a black button-down underneath that, classy and crisp. He looks good. He’s going to have a good time

He’s going to do his damned best not to think of Thor for just one night. Just one night, please, brain.

He drops by Bucky’s desk before leaving from work, feeling strangely self-conscious.

“You look great,” Bucky says, eyeing him up and down. “The guy’s gonna be wearing a red scarf, and he said he’d be wearing his hair up. He’s blond, by the way.”

“Of course he is,” Loki sighs, resisting the urge to run a hand through his hair. “Any other striking features?”

“He says he’s wearing one earring on his left ear? Which is... _a choice_ ,” Bucky says, reading through his texts. 

“I can respect it,” Loki says. His stomach is starting to feel like the ocean in the middle of a storm. “Remind me again why I’m doing this?”

“Because you’re a catch, and anyone would be lucky to have you,” Bucky says. “Even for a night.”

“Ugh,” Loki says. “Okay.”

“I’ll text you halfway,” Bucky says seriously. “But text me any time if he turns out to be a creep.”

“If I get murdered,” Loki says, “it’s in your hands.”

“And if you get laid?” Bucky says.

“Then that’s clearly due to my charm and good looks,” Loki says.

“Yeah, any man would be lucky to have you,” Bucky says dryly.

**10.**

Loki arrives at the restaurant fifteen minutes before the agreed time. He loiters by the front door, under a wide awning, just as it begins to snow. He’s glad he’s wearing his coat now, but he can’t wait to get inside into the warm, toasty dining room of the Italian place where they’re going to have an overpriced tasting menu. It’s probably going to involve food served on things that aren’t plates, and really small portions.

But it’s going to be a good night. He’s going to eat some food he doesn’t have to pay for, drink some good wine, and get some good dick. He deserves this for keeping himself together all week.

He looks up as 7 PM comes around, eagerly scanning the crowd for his date. 

Instead, he sees, of all people—his _brother._

His brother, with his blond hair piled into a bun on top of his head. With one earring shining on his left?—yes, oh God, it’s his left ear. He’s holding the ostentatious bouquet of marigolds.

He walks right up to Loki, who’s shaking his head in disbelief. Of all the things that could have happened. _Of all the things!_

Fuck, he’s sure as hell not getting laid tonight, then.

For lack of anything else to say, Loki is about to open his mouth and laugh this whole bizarre, impossible situation off with, “I can’t believe I got set up on a date with my own brother.” 

But then said brother steps forward, extends his hand, and says, “Hi, I’m Thor.”

Loki’s mouth falls open. Thor grins and winks. Then he takes Loki’s hand and _shakes_ it. 

If Loki’s brain was working, he’d realize that Thor must have known this was going to happen. That Thor must have known that he’d be going on a blind date with his brother, and that he’d planned for it: the flowers, the chocolate. The _condoms_.

If Loki’s brain was working, if his own brother wasn’t acting like they were going on an actual date right now, he’d be delighted with Thor’s subterfuge. 

Loki loves mischief but this—this is something else entirely.

“Lo?” Thor asks, his smile faltering. 

“What the fuck, Thor,” Loki says, and his voice is shaking so much it’s a wonder the words are even audible. “ _What the fuck_.”

Thor’s smile drops off his face altogether, and Loki’s treacherous heart _pangs_ to see it.

“I’m sorry,” Thor whispers, his head drooping. “I just, I wanted—I wanted—”

Loki’s throat closes up. Thor looks _shattered_. 

“You wanted to take me out?” Loki asks in a whisper. “On a date? Your _own brother_?”

Thor’s expression crumples even further, looking like the most forlorn puppy Loki has ever seen. 

“Well,” Loki says, raising his voice, “I’m freezing and you were two minutes late. Aren’t you going to take me inside?”

Thor’s head comes up so fast it almost gives _Loki_ whiplash.

“You want to—” Thor asks, eyes watery and wide. 

Loki barely manages a nod, but that seems to be enough for Thor, who now hands Loki the bouquet of marigolds and the bar of chocolate. 

“Thank you,” Loki says. “These are my—my favorite. How did you know?”

“Lucky guess,” Thor says. He smiles, nervous and sweet. 

Loki’s knees almost give out then and there. 

If he has to rub tears from his eyes before taking the arm that Thor proffers, then that’s no one’s business but his own.

**11.**

The night passes by in a blur. 

Loki’s head spins as Thor slowly, carefully, takes his coat off for him once they’re inside. His hands linger. It’s everything Loki’s ever wanted and he feels like he’s going to lose his mind.

Thor knew. Thor _knew_ , and he _planned_ things, and this is a _date_ , a _real_ one.

Loki should have known—no one would pay for a fucking tasting menu and bring flowers and chocolate on a _blind date_. His brother is ridiculous, he knows, but he didn’t realize that Thor was being ridiculous _for him_.

They’re led to a special table at a cordoned-off section of the restaurant, and Loki’s frazzled brain doesn’t even register how incredibly intimate the setting is until Thor pulls out his chair for him, then sits himself on the chair next to Loki, instead of across from him.

The chef introduces himself a moment later, not that Loki’s brain is capable of grasping anything he’s saying right now. 

One thing does stand out though: part of the meal requires them to feed each other.

It’s supposed to enhance the experience.

Loki can’t stop thinking about how Thor would have known this was going to happen.

This isn’t just a tasting menu, it’s a tasting menu for _couples_. It’s supposed to be, as the chef says, _sensual_.

Which is why he also leaves them alone while they eat.

There’s only him and Thor, now.

“Say _ahh_ ,” Thor says, and Loki’s mouth falls open, like his brain just listens to Thor without his input. Thor pops something in it. Loki chews. It’s scallop on some kind of fried wrapper bed, topped with some passion fruit nonsense. He can’t think. He can’t fucking _think_.

“Your turn,” Loki whispers, when he’s swallowed his bite.

He’s supposed to pick it up by his hand, but it is fucking _shaking_.

“So,” Thor says, putting his hand on top of Loki’s. “What do you do for a living?”

Loki’s mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.

“Don’t you think this is a bit forward?” Loki says instead, tilting his head at their hands.

“Is it?” Thor asks, squeezing Loki’s fingers gently. “I guess I’m that kind of guy.”

“Presumptuous,” Loki says. “And I do graphic design for a—a business consulting firm.”

“Sounds interesting,” Thor says.

“It’s really not,” Loki says. “But I wanted to find a job here.” Finally, he feels like he can start moving his muscles. He picks up the scallop between his fingers, holding it to Thor’s lips.

Thor opens his mouth, taking the morsel. Was that the brush of his tongue against Loki’s fingers? Did Loki just imagine it? His insides feel like _jelly_.

“Anything in particular that drew you to this city?” Thor asks, after he swallows his bite.

“My brother,” Loki whispers. He can’t look away from Thor.

“He must be really important to you,” Thor says, raising an eyebrow.

“The most,” Loki chokes out. He finally looks away, heart pounding so hard in his chest that he feels like it’ll burst out of his ears.

“Sounds like a lucky guy,” Thor says softly. He squeezes Loki’s hand again.

Loki doesn’t realize how close they are until the next course is served and Thor pulls away. It’s like all the air suddenly returns to the room, and he takes a big gulp of wine as the server sets two small plates of black pasta in front of them.

“Yeah,” Loki says, his mouth running before his brain can catch up, “he can be a bit of an asshole though. Sometimes he springs things on me without warning.”

Thor throws back his head and laughs, loud and hearty, and all the tension in Loki’s shoulders just _melts_.

“You’re lucky you’re hot,” Loki says.

“You think I’m hot?” Thor asks, eyes crinkling. 

“Don’t fish,” Loki retorts. 

“ _You’re_ hot,” Thor says. “Have you seen yourself?” He laughs ruefully. “When I saw you out there, I almost wanted to cancel the reservation. Just wanted to—to take you home.”

“Yeah?” Loki asks, flushing _hot_. “Would you—I mean—”

“You told me to bring condoms,” Thor says, leaning in, his voice low.

Oh, Loki’s _entire body_ is made of jelly.

His breath catches.

“Thor,” he says, and it’s not a whimper. It’s _not_.

“Later, Lo,” Thor says, tucking the words right against Loki’s ear. The mere brush of his lips on Loki’s skin makes Loki tingle right down to the tips of his fingers.

Then Thor twists his fork into the pasta, asking Loki how long he’s been in the city, back to acting like this is the first time they’ve met.

“Only a month,” Loki says, feeling dizzy, giddy, electrified. “But I think I’m here to stay.”

**12.**

Thor, like a perfect gentleman, walks him home. 

After spending the first fifteen minutes torn between wanting to skip because Thor is holding his hand, and wanting to hide because they’re _brothers_ and everyone can _see_ , Loki finally feels like he can just appreciate this for what it is.

Only, he’s not really sure what this is at all.

The illusion of it holds, though, right up until they reach the front door of Thor’s—of _their_ —apartment building.

“I had a really good time,” Thor says, while Loki looks for his spare key. 

They’re of a height right now, with Loki standing a step above Thor. 

“Me too,” Loki says. “But tasting menus are overpriced, and next time you should just take me to a burger joint.”

“Next time?” Thor asks. His eyes crinkle, of course, because he’s smiling so wide. 

Loki almost swallows his tongue.

“I, uh, I mean, if you—”

“I’d love to,” Thor murmurs. “Let’s skip the restaurant, though, and I’ll cook for you.”

“That sounds great,” Loki says, breathless.

“I’d really like to kiss you right now,” Thor says, his eyes darting to Loki’s lips, then back up.

“I’d really like you to,” Loki murmurs. 

So Thor does. Despite all his bluster about taking Loki home earlier, the kiss is chaste and sweet. Just a small peck on Loki’s mouth, and Thor’s pulling away.

Just a small peck, but Loki’s left completely speechless by it.

His brother has just _kissed_ him.

“Do you—do you want to come up?” Loki asks. 

Thor only nods, his gaze inscrutable but unmoving.

“Okay,” Loki breathes. “Okay.”

He grasps for the door behind him, holds the shaking key to the lock.

Somehow, Loki gets the door open, revealing the entranceway and the stairs they need to take up to the apartment.

They climb up all four flights in silence. 

“Hey, Lo,” Thor says, when they reach his door. He pulls out his own keys from his pocket, turning his back to Loki for the first time that night.

“Yeah?” Loki asks, almost vibrating with anticipation for what Thor is about to say.

“Did you know marigolds symbolize jealousy too?”

“I am going to _gut_ you,” Loki says immediately, and Thor laughs, opens the door, and flicks on the light. 

The door closes behind them.

They’re home. 

Suddenly, Loki is Thor’s brother again, not his date, not his would-be lover. 

Something in his chest twists, hard, but before he can do anything else, Thor puts a hand on the side of his neck, reeling him in with a hand clenched into the front of his coat.

“I want to kiss you again,” Thor says softly. “And then I want to take you to bed until you understand that you never have to be jealous of anyone when it comes to me.”

Loki surges forward, kissing him hard. Thor cups Loki’s face in his hands and deepens it, licking into Loki’s mouth, nothing like the kiss from earlier. Thor pushes Loki’s coat off his shoulders, and it falls to the floor in a quiet shuffle.

“It’s always you, Lo,” Thor murmurs into the crush of their mouths, panting hard. “It’s always been you.”

“I can’t believe you knew the whole time, you _asshole_ ,” Loki says, kissing Thor again, and again, and again. 

“I can’t believe you’d think I could ever—”

“I’m your _brother_ —”

“Is it going to be a problem?” Thor asks, his tone deep and dark, sending a shiver down Loki’s spine. 

Loki finds the wherewithal to roll his eyes, just as he rolls his hips against Thor’s thigh. Welcome back, relentless boners. Now nothing can hold them back.

“Do you _think_ it’s going to be a problem, Thor?” Loki drawls. 

“You—” Thor bites off. 

Loki gasps in surprise as Thor bends down and then hauls Loki over his shoulder.

“Oh my god,” Loki says, squirming in delight. He squirms even more when Thor delivers a smack to his ass. “Oh my _god!_ ”

“Save the exultations for later,” Thor says. “When you’re riding my dick.”

“I know you’re being crass to hide your yearning,” Loki says. 

“You want yearning?” Thor asks. “I’ll give you yearning.” He walks through the threshold of his bedroom, and is suspiciously quiet as he sets Loki on the bed. 

He straightens up and starts to remove his coat, undoes the top buttons of his shirt, takes his hair down. Loki feels suddenly shy. He wiggles his toes in his shoes and looks at Thor askance, like he can’t look at him directly. 

Then Thor kneels down between his legs, taking Loki’s hands in his. The fall of his hair across the side of his face is like a curtain of gold. 

“Is this the yearning I was promised?” Loki asks, unable to help himself.

Thor lifts Loki’s knuckles to his mouth and kisses them.

“I meant what I said,” Thor murmurs, his head bowed. “You never have to be jealous. There’s no one else I love the way I love you. It’s only ever been you. I love you so much I barely know what to do with myself.”

He wants to tease and needle Thor, wants to prod at the boundaries of his love until there’s nothing left hidden, but all of Loki’s sharp retorts falter in the face of Thor laying himself bare for Loki, without any fear or hesitation.

Loki didn’t even have to _ask_. 

There’s really only one thing to say.

“I love you too,” Loki says, or tries to say: it comes out wet and mangled, because Loki starts to cry. 

It should be humiliating, but of course it’s not. Not with Thor. 

He scoops Loki into his arms, helps him kick off his shoes, cradles him while he sobs. 

The box of condoms goes unopened that night. 

The marigolds go into the vase again, in full display near the window. 

Loki eats his entire bar of chocolate while Thor putters around making pizza, both of them still starving from the tiny portions of their dinner.

Afterwards they curl up on the couch, on the same side this time, and wind down in each other’s arms. 

“How was this?” Thor asks softly. “For a first date?”

There’s a slight edge in his voice that Loki, tired as he is, notices immediately. He can’t allow it to stay.

“Nine out of ten,” Loki declares. “Best date I’ve ever been on. Ever. If I didn’t already put out on the first date, I would have put out for sure.”

Thor laughs. “The best date you’ve been on only gets a nine out of ten?”

“There’s always room for improvement,” Loki says. “Now _shh_ , I’m trying to sleep in my brother’s crazy muscular arms.”

Thor’s body shakes as he laughs, but he stays silent, as asked.

Except—

“Love you, Lo,” he murmurs, fishing Loki gently out of sleep.

Loki can’t have that, can’t let Thor have the last word.

“Ghghhgh,” Loki says. 

There, that’s better.

**+1**

_“Hope you’re not dead_ ,” Bucky texts him the next morning. “ _How’d it go?_ ”

“ _You were right_ ,” Loki replies, watching his shirtless brother make pancakes at the stove. “ _He’s hot as hell_.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!
> 
> comments and kudos make me feel alive 🥺


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